


Untouchable

by flippednique



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Death, Fighting, Half-Filipino!Iwaizumi, M/M, Past!OiKuroo, Pining, Shiratorizawa are Bad Guys, Swearing, Unrequited Love, Witness Protection Program
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 10:37:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6514690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flippednique/pseuds/flippednique
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when you put together a man who believes getting attached is a weakness and a man who has nothing but his attachments left to keep him strong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Universal Shift

**He was probably** having the most routine morning he’d had the entire week. He got up with an hour to get ready, but he was late anyways. Hajime liked to take a minute (maybe ten, twenty-- okay fine, forty) to think of his day whilst laying in bed. Sleep would have had just released him from its clutches, and had he had a dream that night, he would have mulled over it. Attempt to decipher it. It was an almost daily ritual to run his fingers through the feathers of his dream catcher, gaze far away, seeing nothing and everything at the same time.

 

It would never make sense to him when reality crept over, reminding him that he had another case today, another person to send to jail, another lie to reveal. He was a Criminal Defense Attorney and had not lost one case since he’d graduated, top of the bar exam- as expected, as prophesized by a delusional Lola Gabriella all the way in the Philippines.

If the world only knew that the precious princeling of Iwaizumi&Kozume was a lazy little bastard that would rather sleep than send fugitives and those who were not-so-guilty behind bars, they wouldn’t adore him so. They would probably love Kenma more, now there was a special someone. Intelligent and observant, he was pretty adorable too at sixteen. Shy and quiet.  

Not that Hajime shared the same feelings with the general public at the moment. If it weren’t for Kenma reminding him that, ‘ _yes Hajime this time Terushima really is guilty’,_ and ‘ _no Hajime you can’t pass this case to someone else’,_ then Hajime would probably like Kenma a little better.

But as the circumstances go, he really couldn’t blame the pudding head, even if for some reason, all he could think about was the new book he’d wanted to start reading with a cup of hot chocolate and a donut for breakfast.

God, he should really focus.

“Your honor there is clearly pressure of epic proportions.” Hajime tried to put in as much feeling as possible as he gestured to the boy, who could only be twelve or thirteen years old physical-wise but his birth certificate would tell you he was actually sixteen. “Abandoned at a young age, seeking shelter at an orphanage who gladly took him in. Do you honestly think that this boy, this _child,_ would be capable of something as _inhumane_ , as to not only _rape_ but also _murder_ the only person who has ever been a mother figure to him out of- what? Teenage lust? Curiosity? Some part of crazy ritual hazing? The fact that he’s being thrown into this situation when the guilty party is clearly Terushima-san because of-.”

“Objection.” The defense attorney, Nakashima Takeru chirped, standing.

“Overruled. Iwaizumi-san continue.”  

“As I was saying, evidence points to Terushima-san because of multiple DNA tests coming back positive from hair taken from Shimizu-san’s room, the scene of the crime!” Hajime rattled on, slightly miffed at being cut off, but damn it all if he wasn’t going to make it clear that his client was not guilty. “And seriously, what do people teach kids these days? He’s sixteen and discovering one’s sexuality begins at a different ages for everyone-.”

Nakashima was shaking his head. “Your honor, relevance?”

“Sustained.” The judge gave Hajime a look. “You are clearly affected by this Iwaizumi-san. Shall I call for a recess so that you may collect yourself?”

“No, thank you, your honor.” Hajime kept his eyes on the judge. He did not damn well need a recess. He was trying to work his way into a confession, and he was going to very well get it. Hajime cleared his throat. “Your honor, I request the state to call  Terushima Yuuji to the stand.”

The increasingly panicked look on Terushima’s face was making Hajime’s heartbeat pick up, his blood singing in his veins as he noticed the beginnings of a break down. The fucker was about to crack.

“Terushima-san… you are aware that the only reason you’re here is because Hinata gave your name out during police questioning?” Hajime asked.

Terushima nodded before he found his voice. “Yes.”

“And you demanded to see him in court? Even if you’re up against a mere sixteen year old, you decided to bring the issue this far.”

“I was being accused of rape and murder, crimes a person such as myself would not be able to think of let alone commit. And by a brat, no less? Why wouldn’t I?” Terushima licked his lips, a nervous tick.

Hajime grit his teeth for a moment. “Your honor, will the record reflect Terushima-san’s statement?”

“The record reflects it, Iwaizumi-san.”

“Okay.” Hajime nodded his head. “I would like to read out several notes in relevance to the statement.”

“Proceed.”

“Before I do, will the record also reflect that in the light of Terushima-san’s statement, he has lied to the court, and by value the state, as he has had previous records of sexual assault in the first degree and stalking in the first degree-.”

“Objection!”

“Overruled!”

“-covered up, and hidden by the Shiratorizawa police defense, with efforts on the side of the law force, via the association of Captain Ushijima Wakatoshi, who is in fact your half-brother, Terushima-san?”

Terushima’s mouth was wide open, his head shaking from side to side in a speechless daze.

Hajime pressed further, even as the defense attorney slammed a fist heavily on his table, sending papers everywhere. “Is that you denying your relation to Ushijima Wakatoshi, Terushima-san?”

“No! I mean, yes! Wakatoshi’s my brother.” Terushima’s eyes were wide with panic. “But he was never involved with any of the shit I did!”

“And what _shit_ is this _shit_ , Terushima-san?” Hajime asked, grabbing the aforementioned records and flipping through them. “Sexual harassment of twenty-three year old Yamanaka Kushina? Breaking and entering into twenty-eight year old Kujyou Karin’s loft after twelve months of careful stalking?”  

“Overstepping!” Nakashima insisted heatedly. “This is only _stalking_ and _sexual assault_ by first degree. Your honor I request that Iwaizumi’s comment on my client’s honesty, on whether or not he is capable of committing _rape and murder_ be taken off of the record! It’s in need of review and proper evidence.”

“Overruled.” The judge banged his gavel and sent the defense attorney a look. “Sit down Nakashima-san.”

Hajime felt a burst of pride and happiness flood through him as Nakashima fell dejectedly into his seat and Terushima visibly deflated in his.

“I request that the jury look over the provided dossiers on the previously hidden criminal activity of one Terushima Yuuji before they finalize their verdicts. No further questions for the stand.”

“Just as well, you’ve exhausted the subject.” The judge adjusted his glasses. “Court will break for fifteen minutes of recess.”

The members of the jury accepted the copies of the papers Hajime had in his hand. Some of them immediately leafed through it, some took a moment to stretch their legs. Hajime couldn’t stay to see what else would happen next.

He lead his client out of the courtroom, keeping a hand on the boy’s back and immediately taking a quick left to avoid Terushima and Nakashima. Like hell was he giving that bastard a chance to spook Hinata again.

And speaking of… “How you holding up?”

“I’m fine.” Hinata sat down, his knees too weak for him to stand although they jostled up and down, up and down. So much energy, too much unknown. The boy worried on his bottom lip as he watched Hajime pull out a box of donuts from the complimentary fridge in the hidden store room. They’d visited it frequently the last few times they’d been in court. Hinata’s eyes settled on one at random, it was pink and bright, with chocolate balls on top. It looked so cheerful. Something he needed right now. How a donut could be cheerful, Hinata wasn’t entirely sure but there you have it.

Hajime watched as he took it, gave it a large bite, then proceeded to stare blankly at the wall. He crouched down so he could be at level with Hinata, ruffling his bright orange locks. “Did you even understand anything that went in there?”

“Err, kind of.” Hinata’s nose scrunched up adorably and Hajime felt his heart clench in his chest. How could someone accuse this boy of rape and murder. Just, Jesus how? “You didn’t tell me that you found evidence of past crimes.”

“I didn’t think you’d need to know just yet.” Hajime confessed. “If you’d known and gotten stuck on the stand, Nakashima could have weeded it out of you and would have found a way to work around it. I needed those records to remain hidden until I could present them in the way they’re meant to be seen.”

Hinata took a moment to mull over his words, but he nodded anyways, his lips firmly pressed together, before he licked them nervously, then carefully asked, “How does everything look to you?”

“Honestly?” Hajime offered a rare grin. “That man is going behind bars, and you’re walking home free.”

“Really?” Hinata stared at him with glassy eyes, filled with unshed tears. He inhaled deeply when Hajime pressde a finger to his lips. “Right. Composed.”

“Composed.” Hajime chuckled, then he stood. “Ready to get back in there?”

The ginger gave a firm nod and followed him back inside the courtroom where they stood side by side. That’s how they were, a united front, as the court officer handed the judge a piece of paper that held Hinata’s fate.

“Will the defendant please rise,” the judge said. “On the charges of sexual assault in the first degree, and murder in the first degree, has the jury reached a verdict?”

“Yes, your honor.” A jury-woman stood. She disregarded the card her fellow jury-man handed her.

“How does the jury find?”

Hajime tensed. It was probably a unanimous decision. He glanced to his left where Nakashima and Terushima were glaring hard at the wooden stand, the former’s hand clenched tightly into a fist. He glanced to his right where Hinata was nearly hurting himself, his nails digging into the palms of his hands. Hajime glanced down at his feet, and imagined that he could see his heart pumping so hard it would rip out of his chest.

“We find the defendant, Terushima Yuuji _guilty_ , on all charges.”

Hajime felt a wave of relief as the courtroom erupted into chatter. To him it sounded like bees, buzzing, and buzzing, and buzzing, and buzzing. All he wanted to do now was go home and lie down. But he couldn’t, not yet.

“The defendant is hereby sentenced to a lifetime imprisonment with no bail available on hands to murder of the first degree.” The judge banged his gavel twice. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the state thanks you for your service. The court is adjourned.”

It was at these moments that everything sort of felt like it was going in slow motion. Hajime kept an eye on Terushima as the court officers came forward to cuff him and take him to prison. He kept a hand on Hinata just in case Terushima tried anything funny, but he didn’t.

Nakashima on the other hand, had a horrified look on his face. And it didn’t bode well with Hajime. It was as if _he_ was the one getting sent to prison for life, not his client.

Hajime disregarded that for now, turning sharply to his right when a suddenly over ecstatic Hinata all but threw himself at him, his elbows digging into Hajime’s sides before short arms wrapped around his hips. The kid was babbling a million miles a minute, but Hajime understood that. He felt the same kind of relief all but turning his bones to jelly.

He gave Hinata to the social worker that had taken over the position of guardian when the case started, and after being assured that Hinata would get fed, and returned to his bed at the orphanage, Hajime gave the kid his last goodbyes.

“Thank you so much for everything.” Hinata had mumbled, crying into his arm. “Y-You didn’t have to try so hard.”

“You were doing the right thing.” Hajime praised him, because the kid really was. Shimizu Kiyoko had been given justice, may her soul rest in peace. “It’s all thanks to you that Terushima won’t ever be able to hurt anyone like he hurt Shimizu.”

“Kiyoko.” Hinata mumbled through his stuffed nose. He smiled poorly at Hajime. “After all you’ve done for me, she would want you to call her that.”

“Kiyoko, then.” Hajime ruffled his hair one last time, then watched as he was taken away. The silver haired social worker gave him a grateful nod, and he heard Hinata say something like, ‘ _pizza for dinner Suga-san?’_ as the two walked away.  

Pizza sounded good. He liked pizza. He wanted pizza. He _deserved_ pizza. He pulled out his phone, pressing speed-dial 2 and waited for the other person to pick up.

“Hey Kenma, let’s get pizza.”   

* * *

Tooru shivered as he stepped onto the mat, the training room’s air conditioning was all kinds of stupid as it didn’t seem to understand the balance between hot and cold. It was either simulating an oven or the north pole.

“Someone’s slacking on maintenance duty.” He grumbled as he pulled on his wrists supports. A chuckled greeted him from the other side of the mat, his sparring partner not the least bothered by the low temperature.

“You're much too delicate for the cold, Tooru? Who would have thought, what with your frozen ass heart?” Kuroo stretched his neck, sighing at all the joints that popped.

And on Tooru’s side of the mat, he could feel a blood vessel wanting to do the same. Kuroo had never liked that he had ended their little rendezvous in the supply closet because he was starting to get a little too attached. In their line of work, that was big no-no. The stupid big head didn’t seem to get that.  “Bitch, let it go.”

“Beat me in a spar and I just might.”

Tooru sent Kuroo a dirty look and shoved his mouth guard into place. Kuroo did the same, shuffling on his feet, going forwards, backwards, all loose and relaxed. The confidence in Kuroo’s stance irked Tooru to incredible degrees. He reached out with a swipe, not the least surprised when Kuroo merely stepped away to avoid it. A series of kicks, and a flurry of punches followed after with only one landing.

That bruise already forming on Kuroo’s cheek gave Tooru bragging rights for an entire week- (or until Bokuto got back from whatever mission he got assigned to and he got to whoop Kuroo’s ass)- because this was Kuroo, the **King of Dodging**.

“You’ve gotten better.” Kuroo acknowledge, spitting out his mouth guard and ignoring the way Tooru’s nose wrinkled. “Were you aiming for my face Sweetheart? If you wanted a kiss that bad, all you had to do was ask.”

Tooru pulled his mouth guard out, being careful of the saliva sticking on it, and gave Kuroo an incredibly smug smirk. “It was the closest I could get to your brain. Hope it isn’t all mush right now.”

“Like yours was after that first night?”

A flush of red crossed Tooru’s face and out of contempt, and just a tad bit of frustration, swiped a leg that Kuroo wasn’t able to dodge. It sent the ravenhead sprawling on the floor.

Tooru proceeded to straddle him, placing both his arms on either side of Kuroo’s head, his face dangerously close to Kuroo’s, their breaths mixing together.

“Tetsuro… you can keep reminding me of our past, but that’s what it’ll be. The past. Attachments are deadly to us, they’re weaknesses. I won’t botch up a mission just because someone has a knife to your neck, and I don’t want you to have to think twice just because a bullet might end up getting lodged into my heart.” Tooru pulled back, loosening his stance a bit, a soft smile on his face. “Breaking things off was as much for your sake as it was for mine. Besides, you and I are too similar.”

Kuroo watched him from the mat, grinning sadly. “Yeah… you’re right about some things. But you know what makes you and I different?”

“What?” Tooru raised a brow, before his eyes were forced to shut tight as he was slammed to the floor, Kuroo now looming over him, a dark shadow.

“I don’t see you as a weakness, _Tooru._ I’d rather believe you’re what makes me strong.” Kuroo pressed a soft, chaste kiss on Tooru’s cheek, his lips lingering by his ear. “For what it’s worth, attachments… bullsiht. I _loved_ you.”

Tooru leaned away, squirming. He didn’t like this. Kuroo persisted, heavily draped over the brunet.

“And you know what else I think? Deep down in that fuck ass cold heart of yours? You loved me too.”

Tooru shoved Kuroo off of him, abandoning any flashy techniques. He immediately put space between them, his face and demeanor a cold and closed off blank. “Doesn’t matter what _you_ think Kuroo. If I had to make the choice between successfully pulling off a mission and saving you from instantaneous death, I’d shoot you myself.”

He then proceeded to head towards the exit, almost getting run over by a running Yaku who shrieked ‘ _Oh shit man! Sorry Oikawa!’._ He was already back in his rooms when he realized he’d left his bag, cursing a blue streak that any pirate in the seven seas (should they still have existed)would have been proud to here.

Proud. Pride. That was something Tooru had in spades, and god sometimes it was the only thing that kept him alive. He weighed the pros and cons of leaving his gym bag there for the night, simply come back for it tomorrow. None of the others would need his gym bag, but his knee support was in there. He had to put it on while he slept or else he’d suffer the next morning.

Tooru’s eyes wandered around his room, lingering on the dark red of a dried up rose sitting oh so innocently on the couch arms. He worried on his bottom lip for a moment. That had been a rose that Kuroo had given him, he’d sworn to throw it away but he hadn’t.

_“Deep down in that fuck ass cold heart of yours? You loved me too.”_

Tooru shook himself, both physically and mentally as he strode back to the training gym. He would grab his bag and leave. He would not give Kuroo the satisfaction of letting him see how riled up and frazzled he was.

Only Kuroo didn’t even bat an eyelash when Tooru came in. Kuroo was too busy shoving Ukai, their head operative, against a wall with several other agents trying to separate the two.

Tooru froze by the doorway, trying to get a grasp of the situation.

“What the fuck does my contract with you stand for if Kenma’s in the fucking hospital right now?” Kuroo yelled, slamming Ukai against the wall some more. “That was your only end of the fucking deal and you’re telling me now that he’s got a damn bullet in his chest?!”

_Kenma. Kenma. Kenma. KenmaKenma. KenmaKenmaKenma._

Tooru inhaled deeply, a sad smile forming on his lips. The puzzles were clicking together, he knew that name, he even had a face to go with it. He watched as Kuroo proceeded to lose his shit, some agents pulling out tranquilizers in order to contain him.

He had already said it but he would fucking say it again.

_Attachments are weaknesses. Fuck Kuroo and his big heart._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The court scene... ayyy... no idea if that's even realistic but I tried my very best. 
> 
> Lola Gabriella - _Silang_ because apparently some see Half-Filipino!Iwa as a thing and I'm totally down with that bru! 
> 
> As for this chapter... yeah, Kenma got shot sometime between eating pizza with Iwa and encountering some really, really pissed off guys. We'll learn more next chapter. If it's worth continuing that is xDDD
> 
> EDIT: I revamped the first chapter guys, I was rereading it and saw a lot of spelling/grammar errors- so sorry about that. I also inserted pictures, though they're mostly pretty random stuff. I want to include some for the really have parts of the story but I won't use pictures that aren't mine so I'll have to wait for the opportunity for a pictorial.


	2. Chapter 2

 

**The day he** met Kenma, Hajime was twelve and Kenma was a baby. He was this scrunched up little thing with a shock of black hair on the crown of his head. So fluffy, so downy, thick and one day it would be this loud shade of blond just because Kenma felt like dying it that way, and he was sick of the color black. 

Hajime stared as long and pale fingers flicked blond tresses away from the relaxed face, golden eyes fixated on his iPhone, only looking up when he died at whatever game he was playing. 

“I got a new high score…” Kenma shared, turning the screen to face him. 

Hajime noticed the game was new, and he cleared his throat, parched from having stayed silent for so long. “Nice.” 

Kenma turned the screen to face him again, restarting the game. “What did you tell the officers?” 

“I told them what they needed to know.” Hajime replied, curt as he tensed in his seat. “I don’t know about you, but this has Terushima’s name written all over it. There’s no way in hell I’m telling them anything more than I already had without someone else to act as witness. That bullet that hit you was meant for me. And it came from a police officer’s gun.” 

“You don’t know that for sure.” 

“Kenma,” Hajime took a deep breath. “It’s not exactly a secret that you’re all I have in this world. My parents are dead, I don’t have any siblings. I’ve looked after you since I turned eighteen. I don’t care if they take the company from me, but I do care that they’d dare to take you down with me. You deserve better than to get hurt in my place.” 

And God did he mean what he said. Kenma… Kenma was like his brother, he loved him and held him near and dear to his heart. He licked at his lips, finding them dry and chapped. 

Kenma was staring back at him, his game long over with a glaring low score as he listened to what Hajime had to say. 

“For them to stoop this low. Terushima must be in deeper the crime ring than we thought.” Hajime ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “I should have known that things weren’t over. What did I expect? Ushijima’s his brother. He’s covered up for him so many times in the past, he practically has no history in crime. This is so fucked up.” 

Kenma shifted in the hospital bed, being mindful of his side where the bullet had grazed him. His wince not going unnoticed by Hajime who leapt to his feet, fussing over him to get him comfortable. This was something he endured in silence. 

“I’m not going to be here for long, Hajime.” Kenma mumbled. He reached a hand out for the nurse’s button, paging and requesting someone to get him some painkillers ASAP. 

Hajime sighed and settled back in his chair when the room’s door opened and in came a bustling nurse. She took his vitals, asked him about the pain, glanced at Hajime when she fiddled with his IV to give Kenma the goods. 

“Reiji-san,” Kenma mumbled drowsily, his breathing evening out already. “Can you please assure him that… that I’ll be fine.” 

Reiji, the nurse, finished jotting down whatever it was that she saw about Kenma on a chart he’d slid into Kenma’s bed. He smiled at Hajime, clicking his pen once, twice. “He’ll be absolutely fine. It was a very superficial wound, didn’t even need stitches.” 

“It looks so much worse though.” Hajime huffed out, crossing his arms over his chest. He let his eyes pass over Kenma’s sleeping form, the paleness of his skin, the scrunch of worry on his forehead. “He’s never looked this distressed.” 

“It’s probably just the situation and not the wound itself. This was a pretty stressful situation, a gunshot, attempted murder most probably. There are police officers wanting his statement, wanting your statement. And you seem completely at unease. He has the right to be distressed.” 

Hajime glanced up at Reiji, taking in his serious expression. “Are you somewhat subtly telling me to calm down?” 

“Somewhat.” Reiji smiled, a small laugh bubbling deep from his chest. “It’s normal for family to worry. Just… try to make him feel safe again. That’s all you can do.” 

Hajime swallowed the lump in his throat. Safe. Right. “Thanks.” 

“No problem.” Reiji made his way out of the room, a violet blur that stopped at the door to remind him about the buzzer if they ever needed anything. 

Hajime leaned back into his seat, freezing when he didn’t hear the door click to a close. 

“Knock knock.” Suga stood by the doorway and had a plastic bag in his hand, the smell of something oily and just absolutely delicious making Hajime’s stomach rumble. “Can I come in?” 

“Sure.” The brunet gestured to the second guest chair, where the social worker sunk in, handing him the plastic bag. “What’s this?” 

“I thought you’d need something to calm your nerves.” Suga smiled, his head tilting ever so slightly. He had such a calming presence, it was enough to stifle Hajime’s own panicked state. “I always get these great shawarmas at Midorin. They’ve got french fries and pickles in them.” 

Hajime picked up one of the rolled pieces, unwrapping the foil and staring at it unsure. 

“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.” Suga laughed. 

A few bites into the shawarma, and Hajime gave an appreciative grin. He felt a bit better now. “You’re right. They’re good.” 

“Aren’t they just?” Suga’s eyes fell closed, almost as if lost in memory. “I visited a... friend in Saudi Arabia a few years back, and this is how they serve shawarma there. The fries sound really crazy, but they’re good.” 

Hajime stared down at his shawarma, a moment of silence passing between them as he finished off. Suga, thoughtful as he was for having brought food and managing to lift his spirits some, which had been quite a distraction, still begged the question of what he was doing here. 

“I have to ask, how’d you know we were even in here?” 

“Ah,” Suga smiled bashfully. “You guys were featured in the news. It’s not everyday a law firm’s heir gets almost shot in broad daylight. The public grew concerned and well, after what you did for Hinata, I figured I could do some good for you. Even if it’s just fast food and cola drinks.” 

Hajime swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. The words ‘ _ I appreciate it’  _ went without saying.  

Suga stood up, walking close to Kenma’s side. He reached out, glancing at Hajime briefly, before pushing blond locks away from Kenma’s face. “He’s pretty tall for a twelve year old.” 

A snort came out from Hajime as he shook his head. “Is that what they’re saying? He’s sixteen.” 

“Hinata’s age.” Suga hummed. “Maybe once Kenma is well enough, they can meet and be friends. He’s being telling everyone about you, how you were so cool and composed like Kageyama. That made Kageyama want to meet you, even though he doesn’t say so. And Tsukishima’s teased him for it, but I can tell Tsuki wants to meet you too.” 

Hajime chuckled lowly. “They make it sound like I’m some celebrity.” 

“More like a hero.” Suga smoothed down the sheets covering Kenma’s sleeping form. “Kids like them need more people like you. They have no one to reach out to, then complete strangers like yourself work so hard to keep them safe. It’s an out of this world experience.” 

“Hmm.” Hajime fiddled with his thumbs. “How is he?” 

“Well, he’s Hinata. He bounces back from anything. Kiyoko’s death is just… a bigger bridge to get over, not just for him but for a lot of the children.” Suga’s breath caught, and he cleared his throat. “S-She was really special to a lot of us.” 

Hajime’s filter was off. He couldn’t help but ask, “Do you work at the orphanage too Suga-san?” 

“Partly, I guess. I’ve been helping out since Kiyoko’s passing. A lot of the children have been startled, and her room is off limits. I’m thinking of having it completely seal off. It’s… it’s not a place for the eyes and ears of children.” Suga’s lower lip trembled. “I never got a chance to thank you properly, Iwaizumi-san.” 

Hajime straightened at the formality. 

Suga stared at him, from beside Kenma. His eyes glazed over with a serious gleam. “If there’s anything I know, this world needs more good people like you. With all true sincerity, thank you very much!” 

The lawyer almost jumped out of his seat when Suga bowed low, his forehead almost crashing into Kenma’s bed guards before he straightened, his eyes shining with unshed tears. 

“Anyone would have done it, Suga-san.” 

“I don’t believe that.” Suga said shaking his head. “And I know that you don’t believe that either. People like you are rare Hajime-san, and I’m promising you now, promising Kenma, that I’ll do what I can to keep you both safe.” 

Something strange filtered into the air of the hospital room, Hajime’s heartbeat picking up as he noticed the air around Suga heavy as if… “You know something I don’t.” 

“I do.” Suga answered. “And I can’t tell you anything just yet.” 

**Author's Note:**

> This story come from nowhere, but it's heavy on the angst on Oikawa's part and it's pretty dramatic. I have so many things I want to do. We have Oikawa who refuses to form attachments but when he meets Iwaizumi and has to spend nearly 24/7 with him you can't avoid becoming fond of each other. Then there's Kuroo who's still hurting, and Bokuto comes in during that. And Suga and Daichi come in too. I just--! So many ideas! 
> 
> Nique


End file.
